


Don't Fuck It Up

by emo_memeho



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Implied Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emo_memeho/pseuds/emo_memeho
Summary: Re-write of the end of 12x02. Basically, until the SPN writers get their shit together, I'll just be trailing behind them with emotional band aids.





	

Cas found Dean sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by beer bottles and pictures. He was, as far as Cas could see, fighting back tears. It seemed like even in private, Dean was insistent on maintaining his emotional barriers. Cas approached him hesitantly, trying not to frighten him. 

When Dean heard the footsteps, his head snapped up and his eyes met the angel’s. He cleared his throat, trying to force down the lump resting there. 

“Heya, Cas.”  
“Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled softly at the familiar greeting. They watched each other for a moment before Dean patted the space beside him.  
“C’mon, man, pop a squat. You wanna see pictures of mini me?”

He was trying for lightheartedness. All Cas heard was bitter nostalgia. He wanted to bring it up, but now didn't seem like the time. So he sat gingerly next to the hunter and picked up one of the pictures. It was a younger Mary squeezing a 4-year-old Dean tightly. They were both smiling brightly. 

“You were so happy…” Cas murmured, a smile playing at his lips.  
Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Well mom wasn't dead and dad wasn't a drunk yet, so, yeah, I was pretty happy.”  
Cas hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes running over all the other pictures. He caught sight of one on the other side of Dean, by his right hip. On impulse, he leaned to grab it. Dean started. 

“Ya know, Cas, you could've just asked.” Cas paused. His hand hovered over the picture, his arm practically laying in Dean’s lap.  
“First of all, stop with the attempted levity. It's not working. Second of all, could I have? Really?”  
Dean swallowed. He really didn't feel like having this conversation right now, but he was pretty much trapped by 200 something pounds of angel, so he figured he might as well surrender. 

“Yeah. Maybe not a couple years ago, but at this point...fuck it. God and his sister are bonding fuck knows where, my mom is alive, and I love you.”  
In that instant, for just a couple seconds, time froze. Cas was in shock, and Dean was trying to figure out how he'd let those words exit his mouth. They'd rested in the back of his mind for years, but he'd never meant for them to come flying out all at once in that order. Before he could try to cover it up or backtrack, Cas spoke. 

“Before you try to ruin this, I'd like to say I love you too.” And before Dean had a chance to process that, they were kissing. His face was cradled in Cas’ hands, and the back of his head was pressed against the wall of the counter. It was awkward at first, because of the unnatural angle, but then Dean tugged at Cas, who got the message and swung his left leg over Dean’s lap so he was straddling him. 

Dean slid his hands under the angel’s trenchcoat and suit coat, pushing them both off so he could hold Cas just a little closer. Cas pulled his hands from Dean’s face to shuck them off before tugging at the other man’s button down. Keeping one arm wrapped around Cas’ waist, Dean leaned forward to pull the shirt off the other one. Then, after a moment of fumbling, he managed to switch arms to get the rest of the shirt off. 

When Cas’ fingers started inching up Dean’s waist under his t shirt, Dean pulled back. They were both panting, flushed with exertion.  
“Not here,” he murmured, his eyes flitting over Cas’ face, trying to memorize every inch of it. Cas licked his lips and Dean’s breath hitched. “Don't tempt me, Cas…” He tugged him closer by his tie and pressed his lips to Cas’ pulse. Cas leaned into him, his hands not moving from the hunter’s waist.  
“You're not exactly helping, Dean.” He said breathlessly. Dean pulled back at that, grinned, and nudged Cas off his lap. He grabbed the discarded pieces of clothing and jerked his head in the direction of his room.  
“Well let's go, then.”  
The returning smile warmed him, and he found himself grinning even wider. That grin lasted most of the way to his room. Until they ran into Sam, who was returning from their mom’s room. 

Sam took in the sight before him - two out of breath, partially undressed men, headed towards Dean’s room with giant smiles and linked hands. Granted, the smiles dropped as soon as they saw him. Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, patted Dean on the shoulder, and continued on his way. Silent acceptance. Dean was rooted in place for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened, when he felt a tug at his hand. Cas was pulling him towards his room. His smile returned as he allowed himself to be led down the hall. 

 

The next morning, Sam watched his brother and the angel enter the kitchen side by side, fingers tangled together. Dean shot Sam a furtive glance and received a comforting smile in return. 

“Where's Mom?”  
“Sleeping.”

Dean nodded and headed towards the coffee pot, where Sam was, letting his fingers slip from Cas’. Sam leaned in.  
“Mom won't mind, you know. You and Cas.”  
“I know.” They both glanced over at the angel, sitting quietly at the kitchen table, then headed over, coffee in hand. Dean placed a mug in front of Cas, who accepted it with a smile. Their legs bumped together under the table and rested there. 

When Mary came in, about 10 minutes later, she took in the scene and, on her way to the fridge, stopped behind Dean and whispered, “don't fuck this up.”  
Dean decided then that he’d try his damndest.


End file.
